“Here it is!” he heard Lexa say as she walked ahead of Persephone into his office. Persephone stood in the doorway, her head tilting up and around as she took in the space. He wondered what she was thinking—probably something sarcastic about how he never used this office, though he’d like to make use of it now that she was here.
“Lexa,” a woman called from her cubicle. “Have you finished the posters for the gala?”
Hades appreciated the interruption, as it left Persephone alone and Lexa occupied.
He made his way into his office, still undetected. She had moved beyond his desk, which he kept free of clutter, save a vase of white narcissus Ivy insisted on refreshing daily…and a picture of her. He had taken it when she was unaware as she wandered in the gardens outside his palace. He could recall exactly why he’d been drawn to capture the moment too…because she’d looked so perfect among his flowers, and he remembered not understanding how he’d gone so long without her presence among them.
The picture was a reminder of his awe that she was his.
Persephone reached for it, and Hades appeared behind her.
“Curious?”
Persephone startled, and the frame fell from her hand. Hades reached around her and caught it, returning it to its place on his desk before she turned toward him.
There was so little space between them, Hades could feel the brush of her breasts as she breathed.
“How long have you been here?”
Hades raised his brows. “Always suspicious.”
She was wary of his power of invisibility, and while he did not blame her, he had promised not to use it to spy on her, and he had held to that, except for today, though spying had not been his intention.
“Hades—”
“Not long,” he assured her, wondering if she was merely embarrassed by the fact that she’d been caught looking at his things. “I received a frantic call from Ivy, who chastised me for not letting her know you were stopping by.”
She started to smile, then her brows furrowed. “You have a phone?”
“For work, yes.”
“Why didn’t I know that?” There was an edge to her voice, more frustrated than suspicious.
“If I want you, I will find you.” He did not need modern technology to locate her, just magic.
“And what if I want you?” That question was innocent enough and shouldn’t have made him feel anything at all, but the idea that she might ask him for help—and accept it—sent a strange sort of thrill through him.
“Then you have only to say my name.”
The hope that had swelled in his chest quickly dissipated with her frown, an expression he matched.
“You are displeased.”
“You embarrassed me,” she murmured, staring at his chest.
Hades lifted her chin so he could study her face. He did not understand.
“Explain.”
She took a breath, like she was warring with herself, but her frustration won out. “I should not have to learn about all your charities through someone else. I feel like everyone around me knows more about you than I do.”
No one knew more than she did, except, perhaps, Hecate, who sometimes obtained information via her spells, something Hades considered a nuisance.
“You never asked.”
And had there been a time to even bring up the matter of his business ventures? Though he supposed he should have anticipated that others would be eager to disclose elements of his life to her. Aphrodite had done the same when she had told Persephone of their bargain.
“Some things can be brought up casually, Hades. At dinner, for instance: Hi, honey. How was your day? Mine was good. The billion-dollar charities I own help kids and dogs and humanity!”
Honey? That was not a name he had tried out before.
Her words amused him, and as the corners of his mouth lifted, Persephone placed a finger to his lips. He had the very primal urge to take it into his mouth.
“Don’t you dare. I am serious about this. If you wish for me to be seen as more than a lover, then I need more from you. A… history…an inventory of your life. Something.”
She was asking to know him, to understand him better. He could not deny that thought gave him anxiety. What if she did not like all parts of him? As he knew she wouldn’t.
He took her hand and kissed her fingers.
“I’m sorry. It did not occur to me to tell you. I have existed so long alone, made every decision alone. I am not used to sharing anything with anyone.”
It was the truth, especially his past. He had never placed much value in reliving it.